


I Hope You Know This Will Last Forever

by PerfectlyHopeless



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Jean is a gay egg, M/M, Marco is a huge tease, but this is what I have for now, florist!Marco, put them together and it's kinda fluffy, result of a prompt I found on tumblr, staying as a oneshot for now, tattoo artist!Jean, will probably have more than one chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectlyHopeless/pseuds/PerfectlyHopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People aren't always what they seem. For instance, the flower shop guy from down the street is nothing like what Jean was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hope You Know This Will Last Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Well, since this has gotten the best feedback out of all of my ficlets on tumblr, I'm putting it on my account here. 
> 
> Hello, my name is Hopeless and I wrote this in a day almost nonstop. I've tried to fix any errors, but there may be more. I don't really know. In any case I hope you enjoy this ^_^
> 
>  
> 
> [Original post](http://hopeless-alchemist.tumblr.com/post/98594357711/i-hope-you-know-this-will-last-forever)

* * *

 

Jean had been waiting for someone to come in for a while now, and sitting at his place behind the counter was starting to wear on his nerves. He held the electronic cigarette in between his fingers, bringing it to his lips and dragging on the vapor. Quitting wasn’t going as easy as he’d been hoping, but at least now he wasn’t sucking on cancer sticks.

 _It’s after noon and no one’s come in yet,_ he thought, breathing out water vapor. He coughed a little and cleared his throat, spinning around in the chair while he stared up at the ceiling.  _Fuck this is boring._

As if on cue the bell above the door rang, catching Jean’s attention. He put the cigarette down on the counter and swiveled around to the front, brows furrowing when he saw who had come in.

He recognized the other man, of course. He was the owner of the florist shop down the street. Tall, short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, covered in freckles, and always wearing a smile. Jean had noticed him several times on his way to work, the man always behind the counter making flower arrangements for some customer. He didn’t seem like the type to come into a tattoo parlor, but in all of Jean’s years as an artist he’d learned that people aren’t always what they seem.

He cleared his throat and pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, watching the florist that was looking around the parlor. “Uh, hi. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, actually,” the man said, smiling sweetly at him. The way it made his heart pound reminded Jean of just how gay he was. “I told myself that this year on my birthday I’d get another tattoo, so here I am.”

Jean furrowed his brows.  _Another? There’s more?_

“Do, uh… do you know what you want?” he asked, intrigued by the guy.

Shrugging, the florist leaned against the counter. “To an extent.”

“There are books in the back I can grab if you want to go through them,” Jean suggested.

Light brown eyes met his gaze and the smile returned. “Yeah, sure.”

Nodding, Jean got up and started for the back. Usually people came in with pictures or drawings, rendering the books useless save the dumb college kids that came in on dares.

_I hope this guy knows what he’s doing…_

Book in hand, Jean returned to find the florist doing something with his phone. His brows furrowed as he returned to his spot behind the counter, putting down the book.

“Do you have anything like this?” he asked, turning the phone around and showing Jean a picture of an elaborate rose with thorn vines tangled around it.

“Uh, no clue. But if it’s not in the book, I can sketch it out for you,” Jean said, sitting back down on his chair.

The man nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the designs in the book while Jean moved the phone around so he could see the design.

_It’s elaborate, but looks simple enough to sketch. Depending on size, it could take maybe three or four hours. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon_

“My name is Marco, by the way,” the florist said. Jean looked up and blinked, watching him flip through pages.

“Jean,” he responded.

“J-E-A-N, right?” Marco tilted his head at the name. “Jean… it’s French, isn’t it?”

He stared at Marco for a moment. “Y-Yeah, it is.”

The brunet smiled and licked at his lips as he returned his gaze. “I don’t think it’s in here, so can you sketch that out?”

“Um, sure,” Jean said, sitting back and rubbing at his nose while his tongue messed with the ring that was pierced through his lower lip. “Where are you planning on getting this thing and how big?”

Marco stood straighter, and gestured to his right shoulder. “The rose on my shoulder and some vines going down my arm a little. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Jean said, pride filling inside him. He reached over for the transfer paper he’d eventually use to mark where the tattoo would go.

His gaze moved from the phone to the paper as he worked. Because they were alone, the only other artists in the shop taking the day off, he didn’t mind working at the counter. Marco was patient for the duration of the sketching process.

“You’ll be wanting this in color, correct? The way is on your phone?” Jean asked him, not taking his gaze off of the sketch.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Marco said.

The blond nodded and pushed his undercut hair to one side. His teeth and tongue continued playing absentmindedly with the lip ring while he finished. “Okay,” he said finally, finishing. He turned the pad around to Marco so he could give it the okay.

Bright brown eyes lit up happily at the sight of the sketch. “It looks incredible!” he said, beaming at the artist.

Jean felt his cheeks warm at Marco’s excitement. “I hope you know this will last forever.”

“I’m aware. And it looks perfect.” He looked up and smiled at him.

“If that’s the case, then let’s get started, shall we?” Jean tried a smile at the other man and he stood up. “I’ll need you to take your shirt off,” he said, going to his station, pulling on a pair of gloves, and getting his supplies ready. 

Marco did as told and tugged the polo up over his head, revealing a mess of freckles and several other tattoos, all flower themed.

“You sure do like flowers,” Jean commented.

“Botany has always been an interest of mine.”

The blond laughed lightly. “Sounds like your last name.” Marco looked at him odd, brow raised. “Y-You own the flower shop down the street, don’t you?” he said, trying to explain himself. “Bodt. Botany. They, uh… they sound similar.”

A smile tugged Marco’s lips upward. “Haha, they do,” he laughed. “I never made that connection, actually.”

Jean smiled. He didn’t want to come across as a stalker, though he’d taken notice of Marco long before now. He just didn’t know anything about him until that point.

The two went through the process of sanitizing where the tattoo would go and transferring the sketch. Once Jean got the okay from Marco, he started what would become a several hours long job.

Neither of them said much for a while, the sounds of the machine and the radio in the background preventing the lack of conversation from boring them for too long.

“So,” Marco started, remaining as still as possible. “How long have you been an artist?”

“All my life,” Jean said, not looking away from the stencil. “If you’re talking about tattoos, then for a little more than nine years. Started as an apprentice when I was seventeen, got my license at nineteen, and I’ve been a professional ever since.”

“How’d you get into it?” was the next question.

“I’ve been fascinated by tattoos since I was a younger teenager. Came here asking for more information and was set up with an apprenticeship with Levi, the original owner. Didn’t get work on people until I could hold this thing steady and was able to stay still for more than an hour.” Jean nodded to the pen in his hand. “Don’t worry, though, I’ve got more than enough experience to qualify me now.”

Marco nodded. “So does that include personal experience? I see you’ve got a lot of piercings, but do you have any tattoos of your own?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, tongue fidgeting with the ring again. “Sleeves have never been my thing, but there are a bunch on my shoulders, a big one on my back, and couple on my chest.”

“I’d love to see them someday,” Marco hinted, smiling.

Jean’s face flushed and he tried to laugh that off as he removed the pen, wiping over the surface with a sanitary wipe. “Heh. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

“Maybe I am,” Marco said, winking.

That certainly didn’t help the situation. Jean continued messing with the ring. “I’ll make you a deal: if you stay still for me, I’ll take you out for birthday drinks when we’re done here.”

The brunet smiled brighter at that. “I’ll take that deal.”

The two of them continued to converse for the remainder of the time that it took. During that time Jean managed to focus on the skin art as well as retain the information given to him. They talked about random things to pass the time, and when Jean had finally finished the outline he was more than just a little excited about the chance to get to know Marco further.

The freckle face was more than willing to tell Jean to continue with the color, wanting more time to talk to the other man. Marco found Jean fascinating. He’d seen him pass by his flower shop several times before, every day the younger man catching his attention on his way to work. He was wondering if he’d be able to flirt with Jean when he walked in, and was pleasantly surprised at how things were going.

After more hours of being repeatedly stabbed with tiny needles, the coloring was finished. Jean wiped over the surface one last time and sat back, turning the machine off. “Okay,” Jean said, wiping sweat off of his forehead. “Looks like we’re done.”

Marco stood up and stepped over to the mirror, a bright smile pulling at his lips. The details of the rose and the thorn vines were breathtaking, the colors perfect.

“I love it,” Marco said, grinning and trying to hold back delighted laughter.

“No regrets?” Jean said.

“Even if I did, it’s too late now,” he joked. “But no, it’s perfect.”

The artist swallowed again, his professional persona fading into something more casual due to the present company. Usually he’d be kicking himself for acting like this, Levi had been strict about remaining serious when at work. But they were alone and it was a special occasion.

The two finished off what they were doing, Jean putting a bandage over the tattoo and Marco continuing to tease the artist with flirtatious comments as he paid for everything.

“So where are you taking me?” he asked once his shirt was back on and Jean had closed up the shop for the evening. It was already dark and he was relieved that no one else had come in.

Jean continued to fidget with the lip ring as he smiled up at Marco. “There’s a bar down the street, if you’re interested.”

The brunet gave him a sly smile. “Or I have some drinks back at my place. If you’re interested, that is.”

A smile tugged at Jean’s pierced face and he laughed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Marco continued to smile. With a nod he motioned for the artist to follow him and the two returned to the flower shop, hoping upon hope that things could last as long as their tattoos.

**Author's Note:**

> As of right now I have a second part as a work-in-progress in my notebook and in file format. It'll probably update within a few days if I finish. Otherwise, this'll be it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this, I had a lot of fun with it. Please leave me some feedback in the form of a comment?


End file.
